


Fragments of Us

by Saremina



Series: Shelter [4]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Emotional Manipulation, Fluff, M/M, Pre-Kerberos Mission, Pre-Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-03
Updated: 2019-02-24
Packaged: 2019-03-12 21:13:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 13
Words: 14,819
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13555701
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Saremina/pseuds/Saremina
Summary: Prompt fills set in the Shelter verse.





	1. Chapter 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Pre-Kerberos Sheith

Shiro isn’t expecting to see Keith behind his door when he goes to open it. His surprise quickly gives way to a pleased smile, and he steps aside to let Keith in.

Keith doesn’t meet Shiro’s eyes as he strides into the small apartment. It’s unusual, and Shiro closes the door with a concerned frown on his face.

“I got you a gift,” Keith starts, thrusting a bottle of wine at Shiro. “Since you’re going on the Kerberos mission.”

Keith’s bangs hide his blush, and Shiro smiles as he accepts the bottle.

“You shouldn’t have. This is too expensive.”

Keith shakes his head. “You deserve it.”

To Shiro’s dismay Keith heads back to the front door. He sets the bottle down and hurries after Keith, careful not to come off as combative as he grabs a hold of Keith’s arm. It’s a habit more than a need, but when Keith turns to face him Shiro knows it reassures him to see a soft smile instead of a frown.

It’s in the way Keith’s shoulders relax.

“If you insist on giving me a bottle of expensive wine you’re going to have to stay for a drink,” Shiro says.

Keith groans and rolls his eyes, but the hint of a smile on his lips is enough for Shiro to know he’s won.

So while Keith kicks off his shoes and hangs his jacket, Shiro gets them glasses and opens the bottle of wine.

“I’m putting on a movie!” Keith calls from the living room.

“As long as it’s not sci-fi, I’m getting enough of that in a few days!” Shiro calls back.

When Shiro joins Keith he’s relieved he’s not about to see a sci-fi movie, but he’s not sure if a horror movie is any better choice. At least he’ll get to cuddle Keith when things get too scary. If the look in Keith’s face is anything to go by he’s aware of it too.

Tactile as always, Shiro muses and shakes his head as he joins Keith on the couch.

Keith accepts the offered glass and starts the movie while Shiro settles down by his side.

The wine takes effect sooner than Shiro expected, warming him up and making his thoughts pleasantly numb while Keith remains more or less sober, but neither one of them bring it up.

Shiro hides his face in Keith’s shoulder when the movie gets too much for his tastes. Keith chuckles and wraps his arm around Shiro, nudging the top of Shiro’s head with his chin.

This is something Shiro is going to miss is space.

“Can you bring me a space rock?” Keith asks halfway through the movie, pressing his cheek into Shiro’s hair.

“As long as I get permission for it,” Shiro promises.

Eventually the movie ends, but neither one of them make any move to get up. They stay there, pressed together from shoulder to knee, just enjoying the closeness, not quite drunk but not entirely sober either.

Not for the first time Shiro is a little proud of himself for being the only one to see Keith’s tactile side.

Keith presses his cheek on Shiro’s shoulder and hums. His hair tickles Shiro’s chin, and he barely resists the urge to run his fingers through the dark strands. He’s sure Keith wouldn’t mind if he did, but there are limits to what Shiro will allow himself to have.

“Can I stay here tonight?” Keith tilts his head to better look up at Shiro with wide eyes.

Shiro would have said yes without the bambi eyes, but seeing the look and realizing he’ll have to go for months without Keith hurts. He has no doubt they both will be fine without each other. They existed separately before, a few months apart won’t do more than make them miss each other.

“I wouldn’t let you drive anywhere anyways. You’re drunk,” Shiro replies, smiling softly at Keith. His heart skips a beat at the bright smile he gets in return.

It would be unfair of Shiro to start anything between them now, when he’s going away for such a long time. It wouldn’t be fair because they’re both drunk and not thinking clearly.

Shiro can ask Keith out when he returns form the Kerberos mission, and if Keith says no Shiro will accept it and deal with it.

Keith lets out a noise, like a cat that got woken up from a pleasant sleep, and leans up to push his nose against Shiro’s cheek. It’s a strange habit of Keith’s that Shiro has grown accustomed to over time

It’s something very Keith, and Shiro likes it for that reason alone.

“Let’s go to bed,” Shiro says, his voice soft, and he leans against Keith briefly before pulling away.

“You’re not making the couch for me?” Keith asks, a confused frown falling on his face.

Shiro shakes his head. “Nah. I’m too tired for that. And my bed is big enough to fit both of us.”

Keith sighs, but he pushes himself off the couch. “Lead the way.”

Shiro does.

When they’re both half asleep, Keith curls around Shiro, his breath hot on Shiro’s neck, and his arms tight around Shiro’s middle.

It’s a memory Shiro will surely relish when he’s in space.

Maybe, if Shiro’s lucky, this can become a regular thing when he returns home.

For now he holds Keith’s hand as he drifts asleep, listening to Keith’s soft breathing and enjoying their closeness.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Pre-fic Sheith set in the Castle

“Keith!” Shiro’s voice rings in the hallway.

For a brief second Keith considers running, but there’s nowhere for him to go in a spaceship. He stops and waits until Shiro catches up to him, his eyes cast to the floor.

Shiro touches his shoulder, and Keith bites his lip. “What’s the rush?”

“I just needed some space to breathe,” Keith replies, finally looking up to him.

Shiro smiles, kind and soft, but not quite hiding his concern. Keith hates being the cause of it, and he forces himself to relax and offer Shiro a brief smile. “It’s nothing. I’m just tired like everyone else. I’ll be in a better mood once we figure out how Zarkon is tracking us.”

“And we’ll do it together,” Shiro says, stepping closer to Keith.

Keith shrugs. “It’d be quicker if I left. We’d find out if I was the cause, and if not, we’d at least eliminated one possibility.”

“No.” There’s finality in Shiro’s voice tells Keith there’s no point in arguing. “Why do you even think Zarkon would have imprinted on you?”

“I don’t know!” Keith frowns and starts down the hallway again, with Shiro by his side. “It’s just a feeling.”

Shiro grabs Keith’s arm and stops him, letting go the second Keith turns to face him again. “Then tell me about it. We’ll work it out together.”

It’s hard for Keith to not shove Shiro away, but he settles for glaring at him instead. “I don’t know how to explain it. I just have this feeling that it’s me they’re tracking.”

Keith sighs, his shoulders slumping. “I had this dream. Zarkon was there and-”

“Hey,” Shiro cuts in. “You had a nightmare. It doesn’t mean you’re drawing Zarkon to you. This is not your fault.”

Keith wants to believe him. He wants to believe that he’s not the reason they’re all in danger.

Shiro smiles at him in that reassuring way that usually brings Keith comfort. Something must show on Keith’s face since Shiro’s smile falls, replaced by a minute frown.

Before Keith can reassure Shiro that everything is fine, Shiro pulls him into a tight hug. Keith stills for a second or two, then grips Shiro’s clothes and pulls him closer.

Keith knows he’ll hurt Shiro when he leaves. He knows it, and he knows he has to do it. There’s no way he’ll stay if he can’t be sure that he’s not the cause of all of this.

As if sensing Keith’s intentions, Shiro holds him tighter and buries his face in Keith’s hair.

For a moment Keith wishes he wouldn’t do it, but it reassures him that things will be alright, and he breathes in the familiar scent of Shiro, memorizing it in case he can’t return to him.

Keith pulls away, forcing a smile on his face. “I’ll be fine. Don’t worry.”

“I’ll try,” Shiro replies.

They both know they’re lying, but they know addressing it is only going to upset them. So for now they pretend everything is fine, and start down the hallway, their arms brushing against each other as they head towards their rooms.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Zarkon's POV for when he tracked Keith instead of Black

Zarkon knows where the Castle of Lions is.

More importantly, he knows where his Lion is. No matter what Haggar thinks of this, he knows he is right. He will have Voltron for himself in no time. He knows how the Castle works, he knows what the shortened jumps mean.

He knows the teludav is breaking apart from the use and age, and even if the Princess had made a successful long jump Zarkon knows it was a lucky shot.

They will not be doing it again.

Zarkon takes a deep breath readying himself for the next round. “Again.”

The druids follow his command without question. The rush of energy that courses through his body fills him with nearly paralyzing power. He pushes his consciousness forward before Haggar can tell him to do so.

The moment of stillness that comes before the surge of speed of scouring the universe for Voltron is not something Zarkon enjoys. It always makes him think this is the time he will not succeed in locating his Lion. Then he feels the pull of the Lion and he rushes for it, clawing at the connection with everything he has to find its origin, to make it stronger like it used to be.

The Lion seems to be closer than he thought.

Zarkon grabs onto the connection and ignores the strange feel of it’s had ever since the Red Paladin had prevented him from getting his Lion back. He will fix it later. He just needs to have the Lion to himself first. The distance and the new Paladin are not good for their connection.

He gets an impression. It is definitely closer than he thought. The Castle must be more damaged than he had hoped.

No. It is not the Castle. His target is moving but it is not in the Castle. His Lion is alone in space.

Zarkon smiles. If the child playing Paladin with his Lion is stupid enough to leave the Castle then he practically has what he wants already. He just needs to get a little closer to the Lion.

He can see it. He can see the—

Wait. No.

That is not his Lion. That’s a shuttle. Why is it a shuttle?

It is… The Red Paladin?

Zarkon breaks the connection with a frustrated growl. It must have been a mistake. He thought of the Red Paladin and he got distracted. He will just have to try again. He cannot let his mind wander.

“Perhaps a short break would be in order?” Haggar’s voice breaks through the silence, her concern obvious only to him. Zarkon scowls at the space opening before him.

“Again.” He does not have to see Haggar to know she frowns before complying.

Zarkon focuses on nothing but his Lion. The Lion is all that matters. He latches onto their strange feeling connection, poisoned by the foreign presence in his Lion as it is, and rushes towards its origin. It is going to be his Lion this time. It is calling for him, its true Paladin. He can almost feel the warmth of the Lion around him already. Just a little more and he’s got it. The Lion is still closer than he expected, but that is fine. The closer the Lion is, the sooner they will be reunited.

Except… No.

That is the Paladin again. The Red Paladin in the shuttle with the Princess.

Why is he getting the Red Paladin and not his Lion? Has he been tracking this child all along?

He goes closer, gets the location, and breaks the connection.

“I have the coordinates,” he says, turning to face Haggar. He is not sure what is going on, but he wants the Paladin brought to him.

Haggar feeds the coordinates to the terminal when Zarkon gives them to her. “I want the Paladin,” he tells her as he heads for the door.

“Sire?” Haggar sounds confused. Zarkon stops, and turns to face her. A smile plays on his lips against his will, but he cannot help his curiosity and excitement.

“We are going to have the Red Paladin join us. Make sure everything is ready for his arrival. I want no harm done to him,” Zarkon explains, and though he usually finds confusion on Haggar’s face either worrisome or an annoyance, now it seems appropriate.

They will have to figure out why the Paladin is interfering with his connection to the Black Lion, but in the meantime Zarkon can have a little fun at his expense.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Zarkon's POV for Chapter 9

The headache building behind Zarkon’s eyes is getting out of hand.

It is all Keith’s fault. He cannot control his emotions or what he sends through the bond, and for the last few days he has been shifting through everything from panic to desperation to terror.

Maybe it would be best if Zarkon were to place Keith in another cell. The darkness is not doing him any favors, and his emotional state is not doing any favors to Zarkon.

It would get rid of Zarkon’s headache if nothing else.

But Keith would not _learn_.

Keith would not learn if Zarkon took him out of the cell now. He would try to escape again. He has to understand that there are consequences to his actions.

He has to understand that he does not choose when he leaves.

Zarkon resists the urge to shake his head and focuses on what his commanders are saying. Not that it is crucial for him to do so, he has seen their reports and he has already made up his mind about their performance.

“Do it again. All of you,” he orders, cutting off Rekzo’s long winded explanation. He might as well cut this short now and not worsen his headache by listening something so meaningless from such a useless person.

The room falls silent and the commanders share a look before bowing and leaving him alone.

Maybe Zarkon could shove Keith through their bond and get him to calm down at least a little. It would of course let Keith in on the bond’s existence, and that is not something Zarkon wants just yet. He prefers Keith the way he is; unaware of their bond and about to break.

It would be perfect if Keith would just _stop bothering him._

Zarkon takes a slow breath and strengthens his mental defenses, and reminds himself that Keith will be perfect when his mind shatters and Zarkon can make him into whatever he wants him to be.

As things are, the headache is growing to be a problem, and Zarkon decides to call it a day for now. He needs a drink, and there is a bottle of wine in his quarters he has been thinking about trying out. The Empire should not collapse just because he leaves it alone for a varga or two.

The wine does little to alleviate Zarkon’s headache, but he still sits down by his table with the bottle and a glass, though he has no intention of letting the wine truly affect him.

He can get Keith out of the isolation when he breaks. It should not be too long now, Zarkon can feel him cracking.

It will make Keith easier to control.

Zarkon sighs, and lets his mind wander for a bit. He could get a pet. If he was inclined to care for one, that is. Though, if he thinks about it, pet is a relative term. A lot of things could be considered pets.

After taking a sip of his wine, Zarkon calls Haggar.

She is less than pleased to be bothered during one of her experiments, but she comes to his quarters when Zarkon orders her to. She is not impressed when she sees the wine, but she does not comment on it.

Zarkon is almost tempted to offer her a glass of her own, just to get her to relax so that he can properly enjoy her company. She would not accept it, though. She has not done so for a long time.

“I was considering the possibility of acquiring a pet,” Zarkon starts and waits until Haggar tilts her head. “I believe Keith would be a good candidate for it. We can put a cushion in that corner for him.”

Zarkon tilts his glass towards the corner where he used to have a glass case until Voltron attacked the ship and broke it. Keith would make an excellent replacement for it.

Haggar does not seem convinced about it. “He would be able to move around your space.”

“We will have to put a leash on him, then,” Zarkon replies.

Haggar frowns. “He will be damaged from the isolation. I did tell you it wouldn’t be wise to leave him there for this long.”

Zarkon waves her off and refills his glass. “He will survive. It will teach him to behave. And I trust you to fix any damage done to him.”

Haggar does not seem to appreciate the trust Zarkon has in her abilities, but she keeps that to herself. It is better that way, it saves Zarkon the trouble of arguing with her before getting what he wants.

“I will see if we have any practical way of confining him to one spot,” Haggar sigh eventually, as Zarkon expected her to do.

“You do that,” Zarkon says. “And get me something for this headache.”

“If you would have allowed me to break that bond when Keith was captured you would not have a headache,” Haggar says, almost getting a smile out of Zarkon.

Almost.

The wine is suddenly more interesting than Haggar’s disapproving expression. “I have my reasons for keeping the bond intact.”

“Your curiosity is going to get you in trouble,” Haggar counters. Then she sighs and joins Zarkon by the table, though she does not sit down.

It is unusual enough to keep Zarkon from commenting on it.

She touches Zarkon’s face, gentle and almost tentative, and Zarkon has to resist the urge to lean into her touch.

She regards him for a long moment before letting her hand fall. “Your headache is caused by the bond, and if you are still unwilling to strengthen your mental defenses there is not much I can do about it. But I will send you something for it, and instruct the druids to make the necessary arrangements for Keith’s stay here.”

Zarkon inclines his head. Haggar always comes through in the end.

Once she is out of the door Zarkon sighs and finishes his drink in one go.

It will be strange to have Keith there, in his space. Zarkon can barely remember the last time he allowed something like that to happen. But, despite the problems Keith insist on causing, he is pleasant company, and he is interesting to say the least. Keith is not what Zarkon expected him to be, and though he usually dislikes misjudging people this is one instance where he does not mind it.

He keeps surprising Zarkon in the most interesting and pleasant ways.

And maybe, not that he would admit it, Zarkon misses Keith’s company. Keith is different form the people Zarkon usually has to deal with, and sometimes, just for the briefest of moments, Zarkon does not feel so separated from the life going on around him.

He is not ready to give up on having that for himself just yet. As strange as it will be to come back to his quarters and have someone waiting for him, it will give Zarkon a chance to spend more time with Keith and make him into anything he wants him to be.

But most importantly, once Keith is trapped in Zarkon’s quarters he will not be able to leave.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Zarkon's POV for chapter 10

Zarkon is unsure if Keith’s blindness is a blessing or a curse. It makes him more easy to control, but it also makes him reliant on constant care.

If Keith could do it, Zarkon would have him apply the oil to the rash and dryness covering his skin himself, but Haggar had made it special, and the application requires sight. Zarkon has a creeping suspicion that Haggar did it on purpose.

Zarkon does not allow her the satisfaction of seeing him call someone else to do it. He is perfectly capable of caring for Keith.

So Zarkon waits until he hears the water stop running before heading to the bathroom.

He guides Keith to sit on the bench, ignoring the way he clings to the towel as they walk, but once Keith is seated he starts pulling the towel to cover his body. It is silly, and Zarkon does not understand the point of it. He takes the towel from Keith and tosses it aside before popping the lid of the oil jar open.

Keith tenses, but Zarkon ignores it as he scoops up some of the cool oil and begins applying it on Keith’s skin. Zarkon imagines it should feel a lot smoother than it does. The cell had been necessary and beneficial, but it did have its drawbacks.

No matter, Zarkon is sure he can fix the damage done to Keith’s person. The oil is a good start. A hairbrush would be beneficial as well. Perhaps a few treats added to Keith’s diet would put some color back on his face. It would make him more pleasant on the eye.

The food Haggar has ordered for Keith is hardly going to put any meat on his bones. She had said it was for Keith’s benefit, that he could not handle too rich food just yet.

Keith is anxious, that much is clear, and though he cannot see it Zarkon smiles as he runs his hands down Keith’s cheeks. The poor thing is wound up so tight Zarkon fears he might snap.

The scent of growing arousal on Keith’s skin is turned bitter by the anxiousness and fear Keith emanates.

Zarkon could tell him it is normal, that there is nothing wrong with how he feels. Keith has, after all, been locked away for a long time, and it is natural to react to touch as he is reacting. It is nothing more than touch starvation, and Keith should not be ashamed of it.

It is not like Zarkon is about to take advantage of him. A half-breed is not something he is interested in, at least not in that way.

Not really.

It would not appropriate for him to bed a half-breed, enemy combatant who is technically a prisoner.

If Blaytz was alive he would say that would be half of the fun.

Still, there was no point in entertaining an idea that is not a possibility while Keith is not a part of his people. If Keith were to know the truth about his heritage and accept it, and if Haggar were to change his appearance it might be more acceptable.

Not that there are not people who think Zarkon is bedding Keith already, but those people are few and easy to silence. They are not important.

The knee that slams into Zarkon’s jaw comes as a surprise, and Zarkon falls back, biting back a grunt. He turns his back to Keith, the taste of blood filling his mouth. He does not have to face Keith to feel the terror bubbling inside him.

Annoyed with himself, Zarkon leaves the room without a word. He should have seen the kick coming. He should not have been distracted.

Zarkon gets himself a glass of water to get rid of the taste, and waits until the blood flow in his mouth stops.

The crash coming from the bathroom almost makes Zarkon flinch, and he has to fight back the urge to go and shake Keith for not behaving. It would not to him any good. Keith is merely panicking, and though it is a useless exercise in futility, Zarkon knows it cannot be easy for Keith to fear he has upset Zarkon, or that he has hurt him.

Zarkon frowns at the room. Perhaps it was not a good idea of him to allow Keith in his quarters. He is certainly proving to be troublesome.

Still, it cannot be helped. Keith is going to stay where he is, since Zarkon refuses to let Haggar tell him she told him the arrangement was not going to work.

So Zarkon takes a slow, deep breath, and heads back to Keith.

Perhaps it should not be a surprise for Zarkon to find Keith trying to clean the floor despite his inability to see, but it still makes him stop. Keith is in such a rush he does not even realize he is not alone anymore.

“Leave it,” Zarkon orders in his calmest tone, and Keith starts in surprise. It brings no joy to Zarkon.

He studies Keith as he sits back, dropping the towel he has ruined by using it as a rag. His arms and legs are covered in the oil, and he is visibly agitated, but at least he is attempting to hide it. Zarkon narrows his eyes, and Keith dibs his head down, most likely feeling Zarkon’s mood through their bond.

Zarkon frowns. “Get up.”

Keith obeys, but he hides his hand behind his back for some reason. Zarkon’s frown deepens, and when Keith does not move he steps closer to Keith. He grabs Keith’s arm and pulls him away from the mess he has created.

Keith stumbles and crashes into Zarkon, and though Zarkon can feel his fear, he cannot stop the frustrated sigh escaping his lips.

“Are you incapable of behaving?” Zarkon raises an eyebrow even though Keith cannot see him.

Keith shakes his head, and the water drops he sends flying hit Zarkon’s clothes. “Sorry,“ Keith mutters, and though it is not the ideal apology Zarkon allows it slip this one time.

He lets go of Keith and looks around the messed up room. He does not understand why Keith could not wait until Zarkon returned.

“I’ll be still,” Keith says, his soft voice holding a desperate edge.

Zarkon studies Keith for a moment before deciding there is nothing to be gained from being mad at him. “You kicked me,” he points out, and smirks.

He should not be impressed by a lucky shot, but no one has been able to knee him in the face for decades.

“Sorry,” Keith says again.

Zarkon shakes his head and takes a hold of Keith’s arm again, and pulls him forward. But Keith fights back, much to Zarkon’s surprise. Zarkon stops and turns around just in time for Keith to slam into him again.

Zarkon squeezes Keith’s arm to make sure he has his full attention. "Stop.”

“Don’t lock me in a cell again.” Keith bites his lip, like he regrets saying anything.

Zarkon blinks at him. It is not what he expected, and he is unsure of what he should do next. He did not consider this scenario.

Keith reaches for him, and Zarkon’s curiosity is the only thing keeping him still. He lets Keith grab his clothes and step closer until he is almost completely pressed against Zarkon. It is not something Zarkon knows how to deal with that well, so he relies on his second instinct of putting his hand on Keith’s neck.

Keith presses his face into Zarkon’s side, leaving damp impressions in his wake, and the oil is going to ruin Zarkon’s clothes. Zarkon grits his teeth and rubs a slow circle against Keith’s neck, hoping it will get Keith to unwind enough to not cause Zarkon yet another headache.

“Don’t lock me in a cell,” Keith repeats softly.

Perhaps it is good that Keith has developed an apparent fear of that particular punishment. It will be efficient if Zarkon will need it in the future. The mere threat of a cell will most likely be a good tool in and on itself.

Zarkon smiles and looks down at Keith, and he has to bite back a huff of laughter. He pats Keith’s head to get him to let go. “You are blue.”

Keith steps back, a confused look on his face. Since Keith cannot see him, Zarkon does not bother hiding his amusement on his face. “The oil is dying your skin bright blue.“

Keith looks down on himself despite not being able to see, and Zarkon rolls his eyes.

“It didn’t do that last time,” Keith mutters.

“This is not the same oil. This helps with the discoloration. It has to be applied properly so it will not do this. I would let you do it yourself if you could see, and I assumed you would not want one of the druids touching you when you cannot see them,” Zarkon replies.

Keith frowns again.

Perhaps Zarkon should have allowed a druid do this. Perhaps Keith is not comfortable enough with Zarkon to prefer his touch to theirs.

“Discoloration?” Keith tilts his head and runs his hand down his arm. Zarkon grabs his wrist to stop him from doing more damage.

“Do not spread it further, your skin will not absorb more of it. Our specialist says it  is caused by your skin being too dried,” Zarkon says, and stops to consider his next words. “Haggar was supposed to tell you about it.”

Keith shakes his head, and Zarkon frowns. Perhaps she had forgotten. Or she was trying to get back at Zarkon for whatever transgression he has done now. “She has a lot on her mind.”

Keith does not reply, and after a moment of studying him Zarkon nudges Keith to get him to move. “Just stand by the sink and let me finish with this. And do not kick me again.”

Keith’s movements are slow and hesitant. Zarkon gets the jar that still has some of the oil in it. It would have to do.

"Sit on the counter,” Zarkon orders before kneeling on the ground and setting the jar far away from Keith’s reach.

Keith tenses almost immediately, and as Zarkon spreads the oil on his legs he smells that bitter arousal again. It is ridiculous, but Zarkon decides that easing Keith’s mind is the best thing he can do. “You are making a big deal out of nothing,” he says without looking up from the oil slowly being absorbed by Keith’s too pale skin.

“I don’t-” Keith starts, but falls silent and doesn’t continue.

Zarkon suppresses a sigh. Keith thinks so little of him. What does he imagine Zarkon to be?

”I am old enough to know the difference between wanting and a natural reaction to being touched after long period of isolation,” Zarkon says, making sure his tone has not changed at all. “Stop thinking so little of me and relax. I would rather not be kicked again.”

Zarkon glances up and smiles at the sweet blush spreading on Keith’s skin. It is one of the better traits of the humans. If Haggar ever changes Keith to look more like he should, Zarkon will have to tell him to keep that trait in place.

“Try talking. It might distract you,” Zarkon suggests.

“I can’t think of anything to say,” Keith says after a long stretch of silence.

“Tell me about your parents.” Zarkon glances at Keith’s face, curious to hear what he will say.

At least the bitter arousal dissipates.

“My father left when I was young and I never met my mother. I grew up in foster care, but I never really settled on any of the families I was placed in.“ Keith’s voice is a little too cold to hide the fact that it matters to him, but Zarkon decides not to push him. It will be better if Keith will tell him more on his own time.

And besides, the fact that Keith never had a real family and that his parents abandoned him is valuable information. It is also most likely that Keith’s mother was a Galra, since she is the parent Keith has no recollection of.

What a poor parent she must have been. Certainly not one that deserved a child like Keith.

“I hurt my wrist,” Keith says, bringing Zarkon out of his thoughts.

He stills and looks up to Keith’s hands, a frown on his face. “Is it broken?”

Keith shakes his head minutely. "No.”

Zarkon resumes spreading the oil to Keith’s leg, his concern vanishing. “Do you need anything for it?”

“A brace?”

Zarkon inclines his head, seeing Keith’s point. A brace is a good idea, and he will have to get one after he is sure Keith’s skin is fully oiled.

He finishes with Keith’s legs, and leans back on his heels. “Let me see your back.“

Zarkon has to take a hold of Keith’s elbow to guide him safely off the counter. Thankfully Keith is careful to to not step or kick Zarkon again, and after a little maneuvering he’s standing with his back to Zarkon.

At least he is easy to guide when he is not panicking.

Zarkon leans past Keith to grab a towel from the counter. Keith starts when Zarkon touches it against his arm, but Zarkon thinks it best to ignore it. “Wipe your hands and arms,” he says and waits until Keith accepts the towel.

Keith remains fascinated by something while Zarkon applies the last of the oil on his back, and Zarkon sees no reason to break the silence until he is finished.

“I will get you a brace. Dry your hair in the meantime,” Zarkon says as he stands. Keith nods without looking at him, and Zarkon heads out without making sure Keith does as he is told.

To Zarkon’s relief Haggar is nowhere in sight when he arrives in the medical bay. Explaining to her why he needs a brace for Keith would have been time consuming and irritating, but ordering a druid to get him one is over almost in an instant, and Zarkon can head back to his quarters to tend to Keith.

He will decide what he will tell Haggar about the brace later.

When Zarkon enters the bathroom again he does not expect finding Keith sobbing while he scrubs his hair with vigor that cannot be good for his head. "There is no need for that,” he says, frowning when Keith visibly forces himself to stop.

Zarkon walks up to Keith and turns him around to get a better look at his face. Keith presses the towel to his front and and keeps his head down until Zarkon lifts his chin with a touch he keeps carefully gentle.

Keith has been crying, that much is obvious, but it will take some gentle prodding of their bond to figure out why. Luckily Keith has practically no shielding, and his wrist will provide a distraction.

Zarkon twists Keith’s wrist until he is visibly in pain before prodding at their bond.

Distress is the most obvious emotion radiating from Keith, but underneath it is a hint of fear as well. It is nothing Zarkon cannot work with.

He pulls away from the bond as he places the brace on Keith’s wrist and makes sure it’s a good fit before tightening it. “Better?”

Keith nods and takes in a sharp breath through his runny nose, and the sound of it makes Zarkon flatten his ears.

He still brushes the tears from Keith’s face. “You are safe,” Zarkon says, making sure his voice is soft and kind. Keith sniffles and tilts his head down, but does not pull away from Zarkon’s touch.

“I will keep you safe.“

Keith closes his eyes and leans into Zarkon’s touch, and Zarkon smiles as he runs his thumb across Keith’s cheek.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Zarkon's POV fro Chapter 19 Part 1

Zarkon should be meeting with Haggar soon. She will not be happy to be forced to wait for long.

But Keith is too amusing. The poor cub cannot even sort his own clothes out without assistance. And having Keith try on outfits Zarkon knows he would never choose for himself is a far better way to spend time than hearing about Haggar’s latest failure to find a way to sever their bond.

While Keith is in the bathroom changing his clothes and clinging to his sense of modesty, Zarkon pours himself another glass of wine.

He watches Keith walk around in the latest outfit with a look of polite appreciativeness on his face before he decides it is time for him to go. There is a limit to how long he can stay from his duties, after all.

Keith looks at Zarkon with that expectant look, waiting for guidance, and Zarkon decides he can spare him another moment. He points at a pile of clothes without caring much what it will look like on Keith. It is not like he looks bad in anything, as Zarkon had come to learn.

The shoes Zarkon points Keith to are a more calculated choice. He wants to see Keith try and walk in them.

When Keith exits the bathroom Zarkon has to make an effort not to laugh at the uncomfortable expression he is wearing. It is sweet how Keith still thinks in human terms, despite living among the Galra who are arguably far more like him than those worthless beings could ever be.

But Zarkon knows it is not easy to shake old habits, so he allows Keith to hold on to them while he learns the ways of his true people.

Besides, right now Keith’s modesty is proving to be a source of great amusement.

Keith stays glued by the doorway until Zarkon tells him to walk around, and he keeps a close eye on Keith while he follows his orders.

That is another thing Zarkon has been surprised about. Keith comes off as such an assertive, unyielding person, and yet he bends to Zarkon’s will so nicely, even if it does take some work.

But what good things do come free?

Keith would have been a prize to be fought over in the past, when earning the love and respect of a mate was something people aspired for. Nowadays people want everything so easily. People seek for a mate that pleases their eyes and does not require much work to win over.

It is a sad thing, but there is little Zarkon can do about it, except make his disapproval of such ways known, especially to the people who think they can just smile and bat their eyes, and he would pay them any attention.

Keith on the other hand fights and pushes back, but always gives Zarkon what he wants eventually.

It does not take long for Keith to notice Zarkon’s attention, and Zarkon expects him to stop walking and return to the bathroom.

But he does the opposite.

Zarkon smiles when Keith straightens his back and resumes walking with a more confident attitude. It is not what Zarkon expected, but he appreciates the show, and he sips his wine while he watches Keith move around, allowing himself to enjoy the show Keith is so kindly putting up for him.

Keith’s eyes find Zarkon’s every now and again, and his face turns a lovely shade of pink.

Blushing.

Such a useless concept that looks so appealing on Keith.

Zarkon almost lets some of the lazy desire he has no real need to fulfill seep through the bond, just to see how Keith reacts to it.

Except, he does not need to let Keith get a glimpse of his thoughts. Keith, unable to shield his mind, cannot stop Zarkon from sensing the dark desire bubbling inside Keith.

“What’s next?”

Zarkon frowns, but Keith does not face him. Of course he would not follow through with that desire. The poor cub is too scared of himself, and too proud of himself to even admit the want is there.

Still, there is no harm in having a little fun, and Zarkon pushes himself off the table, lazily swirling the wine in his glass as he stalks towards Keith, his steps slow and calculated.

Keith takes a step back every time Zarkon takes one forward until his back hits the wall and there is nowhere for him to escape.

Zarkon stops. He has to, unless he wishes to physically press Keith to the wall, which he does not.

He should leave Keith be.

But Zarkon is curious, and as much as he hates admitting it, Alfor had been right when he had said his curiosity was the only thing that might bring him more trouble than his stubbornness.

So, instead of leaving like he should, he meets Keith’s eyes, marveling at the way they look almost black. Should he ever allow Haggar to fix Keith’s appearance to be more Galra like, he would have to order her to leave Keith’s eyes as they are.

Zarkon breathes in, intending to tell Keith to sort out the mess he has made of his quarters, but the scent radiating from Keith stops him.

A rich, burning scent that makes Zarkon think of the heat of the desert sun and fire, and something dark and dangerous.

Zarkon wants it.

And maybe, if Zarkon was any less proud, he would take Keith without hesitation. But Zarkon has his pride and his principles, and he is not about to compromise them over a cub like Keith.

“I should be heading back to work,” Zarkon says instead, keeping his voice light to hide his want. “Unless you would prefer me to stay.”

Keith thinks about it, and Zarkon can _feel_ Keith think about it. If Zarkon has any luck Keith will not fight it.

“You should go back to your Empire,” Keith replies eventually, and though Zarkon is momentarily disappointed by it, he smiles.

Of course Keith is not going to give in so easily. Of course he expects more effort from Zarkon’s part before giving him what he wants.

So Zarkon hands Keith his glass, and leaves him to sort through the clothes. Poor thing looked like he could use a drink.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Zarkon's POV for Chapter 19 Part 2

The whole process had seemed ridiculous when Haggar had suggested it, but it is proving to be an amusing if taxing experience. Not that Zarkon will say so if Haggar were to ask.

When Zarkon nudges Keith, he copies it after a few tries. Zarkon lets Keith feel his amusement as a reward for his success. He is not unaware of the pretense of not caring Keith puts up, and Zarkon wishes he would stop.

Keith is so eager to please, deep down. The poor thing has a need for acceptance, even if he tries to deny it. He would be so much happier if he would not deny it.

Maybe Zarkon just needs to push Keith differently.

So he thinks of home. He brings up the memory of the sand and the heat the morning sun brought with it, and the wind that calmed it down but blew sand everywhere. He imagines himself in the steps of the palace and tries to bring Keith with him.

It is a sweet memory he can never experience again, but Keith’s enjoyment of it makes Zarkon glad he chose to share it. Especially when Keith seems unhappy to lose the memory.

Zarkon would have let him enjoy it for longer, but there is something else he wants to share with Keith. It is not something Zarkon enjoys thinking, but if he can share why he needs the Black Lion back, maybe Keith will understand him and eventually help him in his quest.

But Keith’s mind drifts to the Champion. Shiro.

The child who stole his Lion.

Zarkon lets Keith feel his disappointment before letting the Lion drift away. He has no particular memory he wants to share with Keith in mind, so he lets Keith poke around.

Keith is curious yet cautious, and though Zarkon appreciates him not taking full advantage of the chance to root around his mind, he does not want Keith to feel unwelcome either. The solution Zarkon settles on is being as gentle in guiding Keith away from the things he does not want Keith to see as he can.

Thace’s appearance distracts Zarkon, but not enough for him to become unaware of Keith. He should be easy enough to control, as he is already careful not to do anything to anger Zarkon. It is progress. Keith had been such a headstrong thing when he had arrived, and while Zarkon will not mind Keith keeping that trait, it is something Zarkon prefers to be kept under wraps for now.

“We found a problem in the backup systems. It seems to be purposely caused,” Thace says.

It catches Zarkon’s full attention, and while he does not forget about Keith, his Empire must come first. “Can you find out who did it?”

Thace looks down, just for a second, before meeting Zarkon’s eyes. “Not immediately, but I have given it priority. If you were to accept that, of course.”

Zarkon leans back and interlaces his fingers. Of course he will allow Thace the time he requires, but there is no harm in keeping his commanders on their toes. “Have you fixed the issue?”

“Of course,” Thace assures him. “I have our analysis of it, if you wish to read it.”

Zarkon extends his hand, accepting the pad from Thace. The report is exactly what he expects from Thace, and he knows the contents of it are unlikely to affect his decision. He still reads it all, just to be sure Thace is not slipping in his standards.

Thace explains their plan for finding the person who had caused the problem. His voice fades out when Keith reminds Zarkon of himself by sticking his mind into Zarkon’s private thoughts.

Anger flares in Zarkon, but he does not let Thace see it. Keith on the other hand reacts with violent panic.

“I trust you know what you are doing,” Zarkon says. “Now go.”

Thace accepts his pad back before bowing and hurrying out of the room. Zarkon waits until he is out of the door and most likely out of the hallway before bolting up and striding out of the throne room and into the nearest elevator.

He can feel Keith’s panic. Zarkon does nothing to alleviate his concern. He should be scared. Zarkon will tear him to pieces.

When he enters Haggar’s laboratory he barely notices the unusual lack of druids as he scans the space for Keith. The floor is wet and Haggar is there, her eyes sharp on Zarkon. But that does not concern Zarkon. He is more interested in Keith, soaked and shivering by the door to the showers.

Keith is not nearly terrified enough, so Zarkon lets his anger seep through their bond as he heads towards him. As he hoped Keith scrambles to open the door, terrified of what is to come. It will teach him to keep to himself almost as well as the pain he will go through before Zarkon is done with him.

Except Haggar steps in Zarkon’s way.

He glares at her, trusting he does not need to tell her how big of a mistake she is making. Haggar does not move. In fact, she orders Keith away.

Zarkon takes a step closer to Haggar. “What are you doing?”

“Stopping you from doing something you will regret,” Haggar replies.

Zarkon raises an eyebrow, surprised by her behavior. “I assure you I will not regret this.” He tries to step around Haggar, but she moves right back into his way.

“But you will,” she starts, putting a hand on his chest to stop him. Zarkon narrows his eyes, but she does not budge. “You are angry, I understand that, but that will pass, and once you calm down you will regret harming him. So take a moment to think this over, and if you still want to hurt Keith I won’t stop you.”

“You do not have the right to tell me what to do,” Zarkon points out.

Haggar crosses her arms. “Then consider this; I don’t know how hurting him will affect you. It might cause you insufferable pain. Your bond is too strong. I urge you to not do anything to hurt him. Perhaps you should listen to what Keith has to say. I don’t believe he upset you intentionally.”

Zarkon does not appreciate her attitude, but no matter how angry he is, he takes her comment about their bond into consideration.

Perhaps it would be wise to let Keith off with just the terror this little incident has caused him, as well as a threat of what will happen if he will do anything similar in the future.

Zarkon inclines his head. “If this happens again, I will not allow you to come in my way.”

Haggar smiles, much to Zarkon’s annoyance. She has deserved it, though, so he lets it go without a comment.

Though Zarkon is tempted to get it over with and interrupt Keith’s shower, respecting Keith’s boundaries in this case might be wise. So he waits until he hears Keith turns off the water, and does his best to let his anger simmer down just a little.

Once the water turns off Zarkon gives Keith long enough to get out of the shower, not wanting to accidentally scare Keith into slipping and cracking his skull open. Haggar narrows her eyes at him when Zarkon strides to the shower room door, but Zarkon ignores her. She has said enough for one day and they both know it.

Keith does not stop scrubbing his hair when Zarkon enters the room, and Zarkon does not bother announcing his presence in any way. “I have promised Haggar to hear your explanation before deciding what I will do with you,” he says, suppressing a smirk when Keith starts in surprise.

“I couldn’t tell what was you and what was me. I’m sorry.“ Keith is sincere enough and if he had done anything else Zarkon might accept the apology, but Keith had invaded his most private thoughts, and that is not acceptable.

“That is not an excuse.”

“I’m kinda new to all this. I didn’t know what I was doing and you didn’t tell me to stop. I didn’t mean to pry, or whatever,” Keith replies.

It is not an excuse. It is not acceptable, and Zarkon should make sure Keith understands that. He has no right to invade Zarkon’s privacy.

“Is that why you want me in your quarters?” Keith meets Zarkon’s eyes. “Because you’re lonely?”

“My reasons are none of your concern,” Zarkon replies, perhaps too fast. He should have gone with his original idea and tear into Keith to teach him a lesson.

Keith tilts his head and studies Zarkon, and there is a look in his eyes that makes Zarkon want to leave. “You don’t want to come to an empty space after being alone all day.”

“I am rarely alone,” Zarkon says, because it is easier than telling Keith he is wrong. To his annoyance Keith smiles, sympathetic if anything, and it is such a strange thing to be faced with that Zarkon does not stop him from speaking.

“Just because you’re around people doesn’t mean you’re not alone. It just makes it worse.”

He should definitely stopped Keith from saying anything.

Keith comes closer to him, and Zarkon wants to claw at his face to keep him away. Instead he tests their bond to make sure Keith is not still tapping into his thoughts. “Is that why you want the Black Lion back?”

“The Black Lion was made for me,” Zarkon replies, but Keith shakes his head. Zarkon’s ears twitch without his permission as Keith studies him.

It takes Zarkon effort to keep Keith from seeing anything at all on his expression, and he pulls his shields up as high as he can in case that is how Keith reads him. Keith’s expression turns sad, and Zarkon grinds his teeth together.

Then, to Zarkon’s surprise, Keith smiles. “If you lock me up you’re gonna be alone again.”

It should not make Zarkon stop the way it does. It should not matter, but despite what Zarkon wants, Keith does have a point.

And Zarkon hates it.

The soft look on Keith’s face still makes the anger inside Zarkon simmer down, and with it goes Zarkon’s need to make Keith know he had done something wrong.

Keith can see it too.

The annoying, small, fragile, too observant and sharp for his own good little —

“Kito.” Zarkon scolds himself and takes a deep breath. “Keith,” he amends, ignoring the confused look on Keith’s face.

Zarkon could punish Keith by sending him to a cell for just one night, but it seems redundant, somehow. “I do not want you poking around in my head,” he says instead.

“Likewise,” Keith says, much to Zarkon’s amusement. “I could use some rest.”

Zarkon can’t help but smile at the ease Keith changes the subject. He is unsure why he thought hurting Keith seemed like such a good idea. This tiny half-breed is far too amusing and precious.

If Zarkon allows it, Keith could become a problem.

He will have to be careful.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Zarkon POV for chapter 40

Zarkon does not need rest, no matter what Haggar says. He is not tired, merely irritated by the incompetence of the people around him. He frowns at Haggar, refusing to budge under her determined stare. Perhaps he should tell her to clean her office to change the subject since the room seems messier than usual. 

“You must rest,” she repeats.

Zarkon narrows his eyes and fights back the urge to cross his arms. “I do not. And even if I did, I do not wish to return to my quarters at this time, so there is no point in us discussing this.”

“Why?”

Zarkon grinds his teeth together. Why? Should the answer not be obvious?

Because he had forgotten to kick Keith out of there, and if he does so now it will not be as efficient. So now Keith is there, and Zarkon does not know how to deal with him.

Keith, who he had let closer than anyone else in millennia. Keith who had so easily struck Zarkon in the one place that could still hurt. Zarkon is unsure when Keith gained that kind of power over him, but he wants it gone.

“It does not matter,” he replies to Haggar’s question, his voice more quiet than he would prefer. It is enough for Haggar, and her posture relaxes minutely, her expression turning almost sympathetic.

“Zarkon.”

He considers not acknowledging her too soft voice, but he sighs and turns his tired gaze to her after a tick. Her concerned frown turns into a gentle smile. “You can rest in my quarters.”

Zarkon wants to sigh, but he does not. Some tension does leave his shoulders, and he allows Haggar to take his arm and guide him from her small office to her quarters at the end of the druid’s hallway. She wants to remain close to her work, and Zarkon does not have it in him to deny her that right.

Haggar’s quarters are cluttered with books and papers and her own private projects she tinkers with to calm her mind.

She sets the lights on low while Zarkon takes his armor off, and he waits quietly while she pulls the covers off the bed. Then she guides him into the bed before he can take a step forward on his own, and Zarkon cannot help but smile.

He settles down, letting the strain of staying up for days on end and keeping his shields so firmly in place for so long take over him. The sheets smell like Haggar, and there is melancholy familiarity to it, as well as an edge of something that should not be there. Perhaps it is the quintessence clinging to her skin after working with it all day long.

It helps that the bed is not his; it might be harder for him to settle down and close his eyes if it was. He would miss Keith by his side if he was in his own bed.

The bed dips, and Zarkon opens his eyes, surprised to see Haggar has stripped down to her undergarments — a dark sheen, knee length dress Zarkon is almost certain came to her possession along with the dozens of other garments Zarkon had gotten her to gift her something nice and new to wear and she had discarded without more than a glance — and she’s pulling the covers from Zarkon as she settles down by his side.

It has been a long time since they have last shared a bed, but it is still familiar and after a few ticks Zarkon relaxes and turns to her. She turns to him as well, and they stare at each other in the dim light of the room.

“Why won’t you go to your own bed?” Haggar asks, her voice curious more than anything.

Zarkon glances away. “I would rather not discuss it.”

Haggar remains silent, and Zarkon sighs. “Keith said something I find myself having trouble getting over.”

“He hurt you?”

Zarkon considers his answer for a tick. “I suppose, though I am unsure as to why or how that happened.”

Haggar breathes a quiet laugh and shifts, a soft smile playing on her lips. “You care for him.”

Zarkon huffs. “Hardly.”

Haggar gives him that look she gives him every time he does something she finds particularly unamusing. “You do care for him.”

Zarkon sighs. “I suppose.” He studies her closely, a thought crossing his mind. “Can you fix it?”

Haggar laughs and shakes her head, and pulls Zarkon into her arms. He goes easily, curling in her arms and finding comfort in the familiar sound of her heart beating steadily in her chest. He had spent so long making sure it kept beating, but he cannot quite remember the last time he actually heard the sound of it.

Haggar traces her nails along his brow, and Zarkon lets his eyes fall shut, finally truly relaxing, all thoughts of Keith and what he had said about Zarkon and his Lion fading from his mind.

“You care too deeply,” Haggar says, soft and conversational.

Zarkon frowns, wishing she had not spoken. “Is that so?”

“Yes,” she replies, “that’s why you and I are still here, and that’s why you have a Keith problem.”

“I do not have a Keith problem,” Zarkon declares before glancing at Haggar. “Are you implying I should care less about you?”

“I would destroy you if you did,” Haggar replies.

Zarkon cannot help but smile at her words. She has been using that particular phrase ever since she had attempted to include more Galran sounding phrases into her vocabulary before…

Before everything.

“Could you deal with him?” Zarkon asks.

“Of course,” Haggar replies. “Now rest. You need it.”

Zarkon shifts and closes his eyes again, and lets himself drift to sleep.


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Pre-chapter 41 Lotor POV.

Lotor frowns at the picture on his pad, his cup of tea growing cold on the table where he had forgotten it the moment he had sat down. He does not understand it. He does not understand how this half-breed that cannot be that much older than Lotor himself could be so favored by his father.

It makes no sense. In all the time Lotor has been alive, his father has only ever spoken lovingly of his mother, and he has only ever offered anything resembling a softer side to that witch of his. Not that he had not been as bad of a father when Lotor was younger as his generals seem to think sometimes, but there has always been a… resentment to him. He had lost his home and his wife, and gotten Lotor in return, and it was not a satisfactory exchange.

Lotor had spent so much time trying to get rid of that resentment, until he’d grown to resent his father in return. The fight had been bound to happen sooner or later, and though Lotor sometimes regrets saying the exact things that he had known would make his father send him away and tell him to never come back, he knows it was unavoidable.

And now his father has a half-breed in his bed, and he is willingly, easily, even openly affectionate with him. He even allowed this Keith person to wear an irreplaceable, priceless family heirloom. He might have refused to discuss Keith with Lotor, stating that though they and  related by blood, and that made him obligated to care for Lotor, that did not mean that his personal life was any of Lotor’s business.

So all Lotor has to go by is the fact that his father had let Keith wear the tiara that even Lotor is not allowed to touch, and the fact that he had allowed Keith to wield the bayard he holds so dear during his Arena battle. He even dressed Keith in the Imperial Family’s armor. And then there is the picture Lotor had gotten from the security feed of the ship his father is on.

There is such easy affection and warmth in the way his father smiles as Keith nuzzles his cheek, and Lotor realizes he never thought his father capable of something like that. Though they are alone, the observation desk is not by any means private, and anyone could have walked in and seen that. And his father still welcomed Keith’s affections and returned them without reservations.

It makes no sense.

“Is something wrong?” Acxa asks, dragging Lotor from his thoughts.

Lotor turns the pad down on the table to keep her from seeing it. “Just considering our next move.”

Acxa frowns and walks to the chair opposite of Lotor’s, and sits down. “You still want to go home?”

Lotor gives her a warning look, but after a tick he inclines his head. “I believe I may have found something to assist us on that.”

Acxa lifts an eyebrow. “What is it?”

Lotor hesitates, but turns the pad up and shows her the picture on it. Acxa’s eyes widen minutely when she sees the picture, but she gets control of her expression quickly. Lotor allows her to study the picture for a dobash or two before shifting and crossing his hands on the table.

Acxa looks up from the pad, her eyes confused and unsure. “You want to kidnap this kid? The Emperor would be furious.”

“Hardly,” Lotor replies, trying not to bristle at Acxa’s choice of words. “I want to befriend him. My father clearly has some fondness for him, so he could be a useful ally.”

Acxa’s expression shifts from confusion to understanding, then to a skeptical frown. “And how are you going to do that? You can’t exactly go to their ship and start chatting him up. None of us can.”

Lotor smiles. “But I can go to the station they will be passing in a few quintants. All I need is for him to leave my father’s side for a few dobashes, and I can talk to him.”

Acxa bites her lip and looks down to the picture, undoubtedly going over all the ways Lotor’s plan could go wrong. “What do you need us to do?” She asks instead of pointing the dangers of his plan out.

“Be on look out for anyone who might want to interrupt us and make sure my father will not be looking for him the moment he goes missing, if need be,” Lotor replies.

Acxa inclines her head and stands up. “I’ll let the others know we have a heading and a plan.”

Lotor inclines his head as well, and leans back in his chair, sighing as soon as Acxa is out of the door. It is not going to be easy, but it is the best plan Lotor has.

It will be interesting to meet the person his father holds so dear. Lotor cannot wait to see what makes Keith so special and deserving his father’s affection.


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Zarkon POV for the beginning of Chapter 45

Zarkon knows Keith is not paying quite as much attention to him as he should, but he lets it slide just this once. It is not like Zarkon has anything truly important to say anymore anyways.

So he tells Keith all about the people he will have to meet, and the things he will have to deal with as he rubs Keith’s cheek absentmindedly. He finds himself content merely talking to Keith, not truly caring if Keith listens to his words, not when he looks so content to be there with Zarkon.

And he is content, and happy, and Zarkon had forgotten what it is like to make someone feel like that. There is a different kind of power to it, and — if Zarkon is perfectly honest — he enjoys seeing Keith happy.

He enjoys coming to their quarters after a long day of being surrounded by incompetent people, only to be greeted by a warm smile and open arms, and Keith nuzzling his cheek and the pleasant buzz of his mind against Zarkon’s. He enjoys waking up with Keith in his arms, and he enjoys taking Keith to bed and possessing him so thoroughly neither one of them knows where they end and the other one begins.

He enjoys merely being when he is around Keith. He does not have to be an Emperor or pretend to be anything he is not. It is… rather liberating. He can be himself, for a change, in a way he has not been able to do in millennia. Not around others, at least. Only Keith.

His darling Red Paladin.

Zarkon gives himself a firm mental shake and focuses on what he is saying. He can daydream later.

“ — I have no doubt the entire ordeal will be tiresome, so if you feel the need to bother me during the day, that would be the ideal time,” Zarkon says, but Keith does not react. Not that Zarkon expected him to. “Afterwards I will be checking in with Haggar. And then — “

“I love you,” Keith says — blurts out, really.

And Zarkon’s words die in his mouth and his mind seems to have stopped working for the moment.

Keith…

Oh.

That… is not what Zarkon had expected. At all.

Keith loves him.

When did that happen?

And how is Zarkon supposed to respond to that? Is he supposed to tell Keith he loves him too? Would that even be true? He certainly likes Keith quite a bit, but love? Zarkon would not go so far.

Not again. The last time he had allowed that to happen had not ended well.

Still, Keith loves him, and as Zarkon’s mind processes the new information and fits it into what he already knows, he’s filled with an unusual sense of joy.

Keith leans against Zarkon’s chest and kisses his palm, perfectly content with the silence and Zarkon’s lack of answer. He does not need anything in return for his confession.

Zarkon smiles, hesitant, unsure if he should even be reacting to Keith’s words in any way. But this is Keith, who he trusts more — differently — than anyone, save for Haggar. So he lets his joy show on his face, and he lets Keith feel all his affection and his need to keep him, to take care of him, and leans down to press a kiss on Keith’s head.

Keith practically purrs, and he tilts his head back to kiss Zarkon, and despite the awkward angle it is a pleasant kiss. When Keith lets out a strained huff, Zarkon pulls away and rests his chin on top of Keith’s head. “I should be on the bridge.”

Keith hums and inclines his head. Zarkon is pleased he has started to pick up more Galran habits. “Okay. I guess I’ll go bother Haala or something.”

Zarkon steps away, but waits for Keith to join his side before heading to the door.


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Deleted scene from Those Lost and (Not) Found, after ch. 24.

Keith sets the tray in his hands on the nightstand, crawls into the bed, and picks up the book he’d dropped on top of the covers earlier. “You awake?”

“Unfortunately.” Zarkon stretches and opens his eyes. “Is that tea?”

“Yes,” Keith replies and waves the book. “And I’m ready to continue with this. I checked a few of the words I didn’t understand up already.”

Zarkon takes in a deep breath and turns to his side. “I could explain the words to you.”

“But I like figuring this stuff out on my own,” Keith replies. “I think your tea is sugary enough by now.”

“That makes no sense. The amount of sweetener in the tea cannot change on its own,” Zarkon says, smiling.

Keith shrugs. He sets the book aside and picks his own breakfast from the tray while Zarkon pushes himself up to sit, leaning against the headboard. Keith hands the tray to him and picks the book back up, and settles against Zarkon’s side.

“Do I read now or do you need a moment to wake up before I torture your ears?”

“You may read now.” Zarkon offers Keith a warm smile over his cup of tea. “But do try to do better than last night, alright?”

Keith inclines his head and opens the book. It’s one of Zarkon’s romance stories, and as much as Keith likes to tease Zarkon about his reading tastes, he has to admit that — cheesy as it might be — the story is rather attention grabbing.

Zarkon corrects Keith’s pronunciation every now and again, and translates words and phrases Keith doesn’t understand. It could be like any other morning if it was not for the way Zarkon’s breath rattles in his chest.

If it wasn’t for Shiro and the others being on the ship.

Keith shakes the thought off and focuses on the text in front of him. He reads until Zarkon is finished with his breakfast, and though he knows Zarkon wouldn’t mind it if Keith continued, reading a language he’s not entirely familiar with out loud is rather taxing. He settles against Zarkon’s chest, sighing as he does so. “I missed you.”

“You have said so many times,” Zarkon replies even as he wraps his arm around Keith. “And as I have told you as many times, I missed you as well.”

Keith shoves Zarkon gently. “Smartass.”

Zarkon chuckles and nuzzles the top of Keith’s head. Keith purrs and tilts his head back, and kisses the corner of Zarkon’s mouth in response.

“What do you wish to do today?” Zarkon asks after a moment.

Keith hums as he plays with the seam on Zarkon’s shirt. “I don’t know. Movie? Or you could tell me something.”

“What?”

“I don’t know,” Keith says again. “About Draizagal?” He tilts his head until he can give Zarkon a pointed look. “Or why you have Alteans working for you.”

Zarkon sighs, the easiness of his expression making way for wariness. “That... it is not as exciting of a story as you would probably prefer it to be, I am afraid.”

“Tell me anyways,” Keith says.

Zarkon studies Keith, running his hand through Keith’s hair as he does so. Eventually he tilts his head minutely. “Long ago, the Alteans used to have different ruling family and government. There was a coup that put Alfor’s family on the throne, and left the Alteans divided. There was a group — “

“Coran told me about it,” Keith cuts in. “I know that part, I’m curious as to why you’re working with them.”

Zarkon narrows his eyes minutely. “The group had no loyalty to Alfor, and they had lived away from Altea for too long to have any attachments to the planet. And they were in need of a home. We reached an agreement with them, and I hid them away from the universe, to keep them safe. You have to understand, my people were hurting, and they would have enjoyed hunting these people down. I had to hide them to protect them.”

Keith does understand, he just doesn’t understand why Zarkon would even _want_ to protect them.

“They could manipulate quintessence,” Zarkon explains. “I needed that ability.”

“Why doesn’t anyone know they’re alive _now_?”

Zarkon shrugs. “Keeping their existence secret is just something that stuck as time passed. They had to stay hidden in the beginning for their safety, and the druid order came to be that way. There were not many of them back then either — the Alteans had made sure of that — and they were happy to stay in one place and rebuild their society in a way that they saw fit. Staying hidden has become a way of life to them.”

Keith inclines his head. “I guess that makes sense. But... you’ve made a point of hunting the Alteans down, and... I don’t know. I get that you’d need their abilities but — I guess I’m trying to understand why you’d give the Alteans such an important place in the Empire.”

“Because I trust them to be loyal to me and Haggar, and only to us. And most people fear them, so keeping them close is beneficial to me.”

Keith raises an eyebrow. “That’s it?”

“I did tell you it is not as an exciting story as you would like,” Zarkon says.

Keith pouts, but he doesn’t push it, even if the bond feels more closed off than usual. Keith knows it’s not the entire story, but it’s enough. He can pry the rest of the truth from Zarkon later.

“Is there anything else you wish to know?” Zarkon asks.

Keith mulls over it, leaning into Zarkon’s touch when he starts absently playing with Keith’s ear. “Just tell me something. Anything. A funny anecdote, some important historical event, when did capes become the height of Galran fashion...”

“They are a good garment to have in a desert environment.”

“Funny how I’ve never needed one even though I lived in a desert for years.” Keith grins when Zarkon’s ears tilt down. Zarkon shoves Keith through the bond, making Keith laugh.

Keith leans up to nuzzle Zarkon’s cheek, and though Zarkon grumbles — through the bond, as he considers himself too dignified to do so out loud — but he tilts his head to give Keith a better angle, and after a moment, the bond fills with warmth again.


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Missing scene, takes place after chapter 32.

Blaytz takes them deeper into the water, allowing the currents to pull them along — to give them more speed.

They must get away from Alfor.

They have to get as far away as possible before Zarkon needs to breathe. This would be so much easier if Blaytz had packed a breathing apparatus that morning, but he hadn’t exactly anticipated ending up escaping through water.

When Zarkon starts struggling to hold his breath, Blaytz takes them up to the surface and lets Zarkon gulp in the air he needs. Blaytz keeps an eye on their surroundings, fearing he’ll see Alfor’s troops approach them at any tick now.

As soon as Zarkon can draw in a steady breath, Blaytz takes them back underwater to keep them safe from the Alteans.

And to keep Zarkon from gaining an edge over him. Not that Zarkon isn’t capable of mauling Blaytz to death underwater. He could claw Blaytz up. Or bite him.

There could be a lot of biting in Blaytz’s future, and not the fun kind.

Best avoid it for as long as possible.

So when they near the beach of the ocean, far away from the city, Blaytz lets go of Zarkon, trusting the weight of his cape and armor to drag him deeper into the depths. Just to be sure Zarkon doesn’t get a chance to maul him, Blaytz drives his foot into Zarkon’s stomach, knocking the air out of him and sending him towards the bottom of the ocean even faster.

Blaytz swims after him, staying close, but not too close, and keeps an eye on Zarkon. He wouldn’t want to kill one of his oldest friends, after all. Well, not this one, at least. The others are debatable.

When Zarkon can’t hold his breath anymore and he draws his lungs full of water — for once Blaytz is glad he’s the only one of their old group with a secondary respiratory system — Blaytz grabs him and drags him back to the surface.

The beach is blessedly quiet, save for the sound of the birds fishing for their next meal, and the waves breaking against the rocks and hitting the soft sand of the land. Blaytz drags Zarkon from the water, closer to the bushes and rocks where they’ll be more protected from prying eyes.

Blaytz helps Zarkon cough up the water from his lungs, and while Zarkon is busy filling his lungs with air and trying to get his bearings, Blaytz pulls the hypospray from one of his many pockets (all waterproof, thankfully) and drives it into Zarkon’s neck, and empties the whole vial into him. Just to be sure.

Zarkon slumps on the ground, and Blaytz hurries to help him to sit up and lean against a rock. Once he’s sure Zarkon isn’t going to fall over, Blaytz leans back and removes his helmet. “Sorry about that, but I need to be sure you won’t kill me.”

Zarkon glares at him, and Blaytz smiles back.

“I really am sorry,” Blaytz says, and brushes his fingers along the scar on Zarkon’s face, mindful of the fact that Zarkon could bite his fingers off if he wanted to. “This is new. Was it Alfor?”

Zarkon frowns and Blaytz snatches his hand back. Zarkon might not be able to move, but Blaytz still doesn’t want his teeth near his fingers. “It doesn’t look bad. It gives you character — not that you’d need it to! But it clearly has a positive effect on your face. Not that there was anything wrong with your face to start with, but you look great. With or without it. I —“

“Shut up.”

Blaytz snorts. “Ten thousand years and that’s still the first thing you want to say to me.”

“Ten thousand years and you have failed to become less infuriating.”

Blaytz laughs, and it might just be the first time he’s truly done so since... he doesn’t even know when. Daibazaal was still there, that’s for sure. He has missed Zarkon, more than he ever thought he would. If he had known what following Alfor would lead to, he would have stayed with the Galra and Zarkon from the start.

“You left Keith,” Zarkon says quietly.

Blaytz turns more serious and sighs. “Alfor won’t harm him. He wasn’t the one who ran a risk of dying by staying there. Alfor wouldn’t risk angering the new Paladins by killing one of their own. You on the other hand...”

Zarkon studies Blaytz, unable to do anything else with the paralytics in his system. Blaytz lifts a finger and pulls a pad from one of his pockets, and places it next to Zarkon. “You’ll need this in... about ten dobashes.”

“What do you want?”

Blaytz wants so many things, and he wants to tell Zarkon of them all. He wants to have his friend back. “I want to tell you something important.”

Zarkon gives him the most unimpressed look Blaytz has seen in centuries.

“Alfor is insane,” Blaytz starts.

“I noticed,” Zarkon replies, his tone just as unimpressed as his expression.

“Well, he’s the dangerous kind of insane that wants to kill you, all the Galra, and everyone who supports you. He will find your new home and burn it to the ground, along with every other planet under your rule, and the planets of those who live willingly under Galran rule. He’ll kill _anyone_ who opposes him.” Blaytz levels Zarkon with a hard look. “He’s been planning for this for ten thousand years.”

Zarkon looks away.

“This isn’t going to be your typical fight, alright? You need to get ready. I’ve written down all the information I have on Alfor’s plans and ships, but it’s about thousand years old so don’t assume it all to be entirely correct. It should give you an idea, though. I just... I don’t want you or the Galra or anyone under your rule to die, alright? I’m not your enemy, and I know that’s hard for you to buy after everything that happened, but I am trying to help you.” Blaytz looks at Zarkon, knowing he’s close to begging but he doesn’t care.

Zarkon studies Blaytz, and Blaytz prays to all the powers he’s ever heard of that he’ll hear what Blaytz is saying.

“How are you alive?” Zarkon asks after a moment.

Blaytz spreads his arms. “We fell into a rift. Or a tunnel in the rift, at least. We ended up in another reality, but it still affected us. Especially Alfor. He’s not... well. You saw him, and the others.” Blaytz looks around the beach, sighing. “So, I hear you have a kid now. How has parenthood been?”

“I am not discussing that with you.”

“But I could be his favorite uncle!” Blaytz stares at Zarkon, pretending to be offended and hoping to get some kind of a reaction out of Zarkon.

As Blaytz had hoped, after a few ticks, Zarkon smiles. And swipes at Blaytz’s face with his claws.

As Blaytz falls back and scrambles away from Zarkon —who is unable to properly follow Blaytz with the drugs still in his systems — Blaytz thinks he should’ve seen it coming. Of course the drug wasn’t going to affect Zarkon as long as Blaytz had hoped it would. Blaytz puts it up to Zarkon not being exactly Zarkon anymore — though Blaytz isn’t sure how much of the real Zarkon is even left anymore, if at all — and that making the drug less effective.

It’s the thing living in his body. Blaytz had selected the drug and dose too carefully for him to have screwed up.

Blaytz dives into the water where he trusts Zarkon won’t follow him, and swims deeper into the ocean. Zarkon can make his own way to the Galra, especially with the pad Blaytz had left him with.

In the meantime, Blaytz might as well rest and relax a little while he waits for the Galra and the Alteans to leave the planet.


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Allura's POV on ch. 35.

Allura follows his father to the dining hall she hasn’t really been in since she woke up and fell into Lance’s arms, but it is empty, and an empty space is what they need right now. There are things that can be discussed in front of others, and things that should be discussed in private, and both Allura and Alfor are well aware of what topics belong in which category.

Once they are in the dining hall and the door is securely shut behind them, Alfor turns to face Allura, his soft smile familiar and comforting. “What is it?”

“I...” Allura swallows, and sets her shoulders, telling herself this is a talk they must have. “I am not sure if this course of action is wise.”

Alfor’s smile fades slowly.

“That station isn’t strategically important to the Galra, I don’t see how destroying it would do more than harm civilians,” Allura continues, even if she doesn’t want to anymore.

Alfor sighs. “You are too young to understand why, but it is necessary.”

“Explain it to me, please. I _can_ understand it.”

Displeasure flickers in Alfor’s eyes, but Allura refuses to budge. She can handle the war, no matter what his father thinks, and she is going to prove it. Just like she proved she could be an Altean princess and still fight.

“ _An Altean always uses their words first_ ,” her father had once said. _“Your combat training is satisfactory as it is. You are a princess, you need to be better than those around you. You need to strive for peace, not violence. Leave the more in depth combat training to the military personnel, at least until you have mastered politics._ ”

And Allura had ran to Daibazaal and pestered Zarkon into training her.

She had proved herself then, and she can do it now. “Violence against civilians is not the answer. We need to be better than the Galra. They may attack civilians, but we cannot do the same.”

Alfor’s eyes widen minutely, but he schools his expression quickly. “You are too idealistic.”

“It is what you taught me,” Allura shoots back.

Alfor shakes his head. “Let me tell you something, dear. What you are suggesting is only going to help _you_.”

Allura frowns, and Alfor offers her a brief imitation of a smile.

“Destroying that station is going to get Zarkon scrambling. He will divert his forces, his attention, and his resources, which will give us a chance to strike at the Galra when their defenses are thinner, and we can take wipe them out faster, with less casualties than a long drawn out war would bring.”

Allura scowls and crosses her arms. “Wipe them out?”

“If we go about fighting the Galra with ideals as our guide, billions of people will suffer, but _you_ get to go to bed each night and think ‘I did the right thing’. Not the right for the people of the universe, but for you. It would only serve you. Yes, the universe would suffer, but your ideals and morals would remain uncompromised,” Alfor continues, as if Allura hadn’t just spoken. “You cannot fight a war that way, not against the Galra, not if you want to preserve life. We must take them all out, because if we leave a single one of them standing, they will retaliate. That is what they do; they always retaliate. They keep coming back and attacking you and killing people until they are sure they have won, and we _cannot_ allow that to happen.”

Allura stares at her father. “You’re talking about genocide.”

“I am talking about protecting the universe,” Alfor corrects her. “The Galra are a threat to it. Our duty as Alteans is to ensure peace across the universe, and if accomplishing that means wiping out the majority of the Galra, then so be it. We will integrate the younger Galran children to other societies and raise them with better ideals and values so they won’t be a danger. The civilians who respect our ways and are willing to learn them can, of course, live with us as well.”

Allura shakes her head. “It’s wrong. And you’ll never convince the Paladins to go along with that plan either.”

Alfor shakes his head. “They can be replaced. And before you can ask, no, I have no interest in harming them as long as they don’t oppose me. We can always lock them up if they get too difficult.”

“Like you locked up Keith?” Allura bites her tongue. She knows her father had good reasons for imprisoning Keith, and she has no reason to believe otherwise. Keith had taken Zarkon’s side when it had mattered, just as Allura had feared he would.

Alfor sighs. “I keep hoping he will change his mind and see our way. I don’t enjoy having him locked up, nor do I enjoy the action we must take due to this recent... incident.”

Allura shifts. “What if I disagree with you?”

A silence falls into the room. Alfor studies Allura, and Allura studies him back in return, and the longer the silence stretches, the heavier it becomes. Allura wishes she hadn’t said anything. She wishes she’d been the perfect daughter and trusted her father with no question.

“I would hope it doesn’t come to that,” Alfor says eventually. “I cannot allow anything or anyone to stand in my way. I won’t allow any harm to come to you, but I won’t allow you to interfere with our mission either.”

Allura grits her teeth, but she remains silent.

Alfor draws in a sharp breath and relaxes again. “I would like you to go to your room and think about it. Your friends would certainly benefit from you keeping them in line, don’t you think? We could all be a united front. It would be better.”

Allura swallows and nods slowly. “Of course.” She curtsies briefly like the perfect princess she should be, and leaves the room.

She does as she’s told, and heads to her room. Not because she thinks she’ll see her father’s point of view, but because she hopes it’s the best course of action to keep everyone safe.

She just wants everyone to stay safe.

**Author's Note:**

> [I'm on Tumblr too](https://saremina.tumblr.com)


End file.
